Again, there was a huge moment of silence when we finished the dance. The atmosphere in the room was thick with unspoken thoughts, the weight of them pressing down on everyone present. I could feel the eyes of the room on me, every gaze intent on what would happen next. I made it intentionally clear by the way I moved that I was the one guiding the dance, not the other way around. I took control with every step, my movements deliberate and precise, showcasing that I had worked hard to get to this point. It was important to me that anyone watching understood that Rai hadn't gone easy on me simply because we were siblings. I had earned every step, every twirl. I had put in the effort, and I was going to make sure they saw that.
The moment felt charged with a tension that almost crackled in the air, like I had suddenly become the elephant in the room, an undeniable presence that couldn't be ignored. My lips curled into a small, satisfied smile as the final notes of the waltz faded away, the music hanging in the air for a moment longer before it dissipated entirely. I could tell, even without turning my head, that they were utterly shocked by what they had just witnessed. The tension in the room was palpable, thick and suffocating, and I knew they hadn't expected me to pull it off so flawlessly. I had been underestimated, and now I had proven them all wrong.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of silence, Princess Phaedra's voice broke through the thick air, sharp and cutting. She asked the question that had been lingering in her mind, a mix of disbelief and confusion coloring her tone. "How?" Her voice was thick with suspicion, as if she couldn't quite comprehend what had just occurred. She had been silent for the entirety of the dance, lingering between Daisuke and Ismene, both of whom had been quietly observing, their eyes sharp and judgmental, like vultures circling overhead.
I slowly turned my head in her direction, my expression deliberately neutral, though the innocence in my voice couldn't have been more apparent. "It's my favorite waltz song, Princess Phaedra," I said, my grin playful, almost teasing, a hint of satisfaction in my words. "I used to dance with a friend when no one else wanted to train with me. She was kind enough to do it. We would practice ball dancing together—it helped us both improve." The words were casual, almost rehearsed, but there was an underlying truth in them. I didn't feel the need to elaborate further; the message had already been made clear. They didn't need any more explanation. I had proven myself in the moment, and that was enough.
But Phaedra wasn't finished with her line of questioning. No, her curiosity had morphed into something darker, more sinister. She hissed, her expression hardening as she narrowed her eyes at me. "This friend..." she trailed off, her voice taking on an accusatory tone, like a snake ready to strike. "Was it my sister?"
I tilted my head slightly, feigning innocence, though I knew exactly where she was going with this. The question was far from subtle. "I don't recall having any other friends other than her late Highness, Princess," I responded softly, my tone still deceptively innocent, almost too sweet. "That is common knowledge, Princess. Why ask questions when you already know the answer? But if it pleases you, I see no harm in answering. In the end, you will all choose to call me a liar and focus your hatred on me. It's easier than confronting the real elephant in the room, isn't it?"
There was a certain calmness in my words, an eerie composure that seemed to freeze the room. I let the silence stretch out, watching as the tension in the room grew thicker, heavier. I could hear several gasps, whispers of disbelief from the other members of the room. Some were muttering to each other, unsure of how to process what I had just said. I could feel the weight of their judgment already forming, but I had long since stopped caring about how they perceived me. It no longer mattered.
I let the silence settle for a moment before continuing, my voice unwavering, the words flowing from my lips with an unsettling calmness. "I'm 19 years old now, Princess. All of you, without exception, have treated me poorly since I was a toddler, just three years old. My friend used to tell me that people's actions speak louder than their words, and I believe her more than I will ever believe any of your poisonous words disguised as kindness." The words fell from my lips like daggers, sharp and precise. I wasn't angry, though—just stating the truth as it was. And that truth had always been clear to me, even if others refused to acknowledge it.
The room grew even more tense with my words, as though everyone had collectively held their breath. I could sense their discomfort, their confusion, but I wasn't going to stop now. Not when I had finally reached this point.
"You can ask anyone who knows me if you doubt me, Princess," I continued, my voice still calm, but with a weight behind it. "I've always been a prodigy. Your hatred won't change the fact that I excel at everything I do. I'm not arrogant, but confident in my abilities. Anyone who understands the difference between arrogance and confidence will know that." I let the words linger for a moment, giving them time to digest in the minds of those who were listening. Let them stew on it. Let them reflect on the truth of what I had just said.
"I am only responsible for what I do and say," I added, my tone measured, even more insistent now. "It's up to you how you choose to interpret my actions. How others perceive me is out of my control, and honestly, it doesn't bother me in the slightest. If even the Gods can't satisfy everyone in the world, what makes you think I could? You can say and think what you will about me, but that's on your conscience, not mine. I'm not the one wronging anyone here, am I?"
I let the final question hang in the air, my gaze steady, daring anyone to respond, but no one did. The weight of my words seemed to settle into the room, pressing down on everyone, forcing them to confront the truth of what I had just laid bare.
Then, without looking away from the tense silence that hung in the air like a thick fog, I turned my gaze toward her Majesty, the Queen, who had been watching the exchange with a barely concealed frown. I could see the frustration on her face, the tightness in her posture as she tried to maintain control over the situation. "But as what truly matters here are the tests for the Trials," I said, my voice suddenly softer, though still firm. "How did I do, Your Majesty? Did I get any steps wrong? I'm always open to constructive and meaningful criticism. If you've asked me to perform this waltz as a judge, then I believe Your Majesty must be quite majestic at it yourself."
The Queen's expression shifted for a moment, a flicker of something—perhaps irritation, perhaps grudging respect—crossing her face. I could see her trying to mask the frustration that was clearly bubbling to the surface. She let out a low, muttered curse under her breath, though she quickly stifled it. I couldn't help but smile wider at the sight of her struggle. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. I could feel the eyes of everyone in the room shifting, some of them trying to hide their smiles, others still in shock. I had them on the back foot now.
"No, Princess," the Queen said finally, her voice tight and controlled, though I could hear the faint tremor of frustration beneath her words. "You danced perfectly well, without missing a single step or note. It was as though your body was moved by the very waves of the song itself."
I nodded, a look of gratitude crossing my face, though the smile never left my lips. "Your words warm my heart, Your Majesty," I said softly, my voice sincere, though my eyes never left her face, studying her every movement. Then, I turned to Rai, my brother, and smiled brightly at him, not bothering to mask the warmth in my expression. "Thank you, for being my partner in the waltz. I appreciate it, brother."
"It was nothing," he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, though I could tell there was something more behind his cool demeanor. His expression was controlled, but I could feel the weight of his gaze on me, his eyes studying me intently as if trying to piece together something he hadn't yet figured out. "Here, let me help you sit down." He gently took my forearm and guided me back to the chair I had been sitting in earlier, his touch soft yet firm.
"Thank you," I murmured, my voice soft, though I could feel the weight of his eyes on me. There was something he wasn't saying, something he was planning, I could sense it. Perhaps it had something to do with the broadcasting.
But the Queen, clearly dissatisfied with the situation, decided to push things further, unwilling to let the moment slide. "Since you're already on a roll, Eileithya," she began, her voice dripping with something I couldn't quite place, a mix of condescension and challenge. "Why don't you start the test for instrument aptitude?"
Princess Ismene, ever eager to undermine me, couldn't resist. "Can she even play anything?" she mocked, her voice dripping with scorn. "You need to pick an instrument, but I doubt you can even manage that."
I turned to her, my smile never faltering. "Do you want to make a friendly bet, Your Highness?" I purred, the words sliding from my lips like silk. Her eyes widened in shock, and I could see her temper flaring.
"Ha," she sneered, clearly taken aback. "You know no boundaries to your arrogance."
I just let the smile linger, my gaze unwavering. This was far from over, and it was turning out to be more exciting than I had anticipated.